


Vulnerable

by Bubonicc



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Creampies, Heat Cycles, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Voyeurism, love and tender care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:53:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8271701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubonicc/pseuds/Bubonicc
Summary: His heat cycle wasn't supposed to come for at least a few more months, now what is Misfire going to do?





	

It had come far too soon, sooner than he had expected. Or maybe he had just lost track of time, being out in space just loafing around did seem to do that to a mech much like himself. Regardless, he figured he still should have a few more months before it came, or was it weeks?

The early heat cycle had certainly made it more difficult to move about the ship, as he was well aware the more time that passed the more toxic his scent would become. With that said, the last thing he wanted was Spinister to catch on to what was happening. Certainly the good doctor meant well, and perhaps he might have been able to help him relieve the pressure, but then again it _was_ Spinister.

Even more so, Misfire wasn't interested in letting Grimlock catch his scent either. Despite being docile and seemingly vacant most days, Grimlock did have a tendency to go off the walls. Who knew what would happen if he picked up on that sweet scent of his. Who knows, maybe he would actually be a nice frag, he probably had a spike that could spread him nice and wide and-

Shaking his head and slapping himself on the face, Misfire peeked around the corner. So far the hall was clear, good, it would make getting to the energon dispenser so much easier. Since heat cycles not only escalate his need to interface, but the sudden increase in appetite also followed. He had been a fool to think the small stash he had in his own hab could hold him over for three days when it hadn't even lasted him until the night.

Having no other choice but to leave the safety of his hab, he crept his way through the halls, stopping before every turn to check and make sure nobody was coming. Each time the coast had been clear, he tiptoed his way a little further until finally his goal had been within reach.

Pausing just outside of the kitchen doors, Misfire waited and listened. No noise at all, no shifting feet, no chatter, nothing, perfect. Pushing off the wall and stepping in front of the door so it would open, he stepped in. Keeping his head low, his optics shifted back and forth, as if expecting to be ambushed, but when there was no sign of anybody at all, he stood up straight.

Across the room stood the fridge, just what he wanted, stocked full of energon he so desperately needed. If he was lucky he could get away with a few large cubes.

Taking one more step, Misfire paused again, his swollen panel creaking and throbbing. He winced, hissing and reaching down to rub it only twice to try and sooth the ache. The faster the got this over with the sooner he could sit in his hab with his business out and just let time do it's thing.

Rushing over to the fridge, as time wasn't exactly on his side considering anybody could walk in on him, he flung the door open. Immediately he snatched as many cubes as he could, pausing when he saw a few cans labeled "Krok's", he took those as well. Filling his arms to the point he had to use his foot to close the fridge door, Misfire snickered to himself and turned around. Now he just had to make it back to his hab with his haul and the night would run much more smoothly.

Heading out of the kitchen and nearly running down the hall, Misfire kept his chin on the top of his energon stack to make sure none fell from his arms.  He wasn't at all concerned that he couldn't exactly see where he was going, but he had been down the halls enough to navigate himself back to his room.

Taking a sharp left, he hadn't been able to get his foot down before his arms and the stack of energon he had been carrying bumped into something hard. Too hard, as he was bounced back and the energon he had been carrying erupted outwards from his arms to scatter all over the floor.

"Hey!" Misfire snapped as he looked at his scattered energon, then at who he had bumped into. His angry expression softened only a bit when he recognized the soft pale brown of Fulcrum's armor. He had bumped into the K-classer so hard he had knocked him down on his aft where he was currently rubbing his head. "What's the rus-" Pausing for only a moment, Fulcrum's nostrils flared.

The scent was sweet, sweeter than anything he had ever picked up on before. It filled his system, making his armor expand and ripple. As he inhaled again, he looked up at Misfire, whose cheeks he had noticed were damp, sweaty, and a slight tinge of pink. His legs shook as his swollen panel hurt between thick thighs. No doubt in a few hours even walking would be a task for him. It was obvious right away he was trying to avoid Fulcrum's gaze, keeping his back to him as he frantically tried to pick up as many cubes as he could.

"Misfire." Fulcrum stood, brushing himself off and reaching out to touch one of the jet’s wings. Upon contact, Misfire half turned, his face beat red in embarrassment. His lips were pursed tightly together but his expression warranted that he was desperately searching for something to say.

"I... I uh-" Milling around the answer, Misfire turned his back to Fulcrum once more. He could shove Fulcrum out of the way and make it to his hab with what little energon he had, or he could just suck it up and ask for help. Fulcrum was probably the only mech on the ship he trusted enough with this sensitive information. He could either suck it up and ask for help from him or suffer for the next three days alone in his hab and hope nobody else figures out what was going on. "I need your help."

Crossing his arms and jutting his hips outward one way, Fulcrum tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. Already he didn't seem too interested, as most of the time when Misfire needed help it got them into trouble.

"Mmm."

"Fulcrum, _please_." There was no point in beating around it, Fulcrum had no doubt already picked up on his scent and he wasn't stupid. He knew he was aware; the slight pink tint on his cheeks and the way his armor reacted was a giveaway.

_Fulcrum_?

Both of Fulcrum's eyebrows came up this time, and his sassy pose straightened. Misfire _never_ used his actual name; it was always either pinhead or loser he addressed him by. Was he really that desperate? Apparently so as Misfire allowed his wings to droop down and gave Fulcrum his best rendition of puppy eyes he could make.

"Alright." wings suddenly flapping upward in delight, Misfire smiled and shoved several energon cubes at Fulcrum.

"Perfect," Shoving several energon cubes into Fulcrum's arms, Misfire stacked them all as nearly as possible before turning away from the K-classer with his own stack. "See you in my hab in ten minutes then! Make sure you bring those cubes." With his own stack in his arms, Misfire tuned and made for a mad dash towards his hab.  

 

* * *

 

There was a loud sigh of relief as Misfire released his panel hatch, allowing both his swollen valve and spike out toward freedom. His spike arched over groin, swelling even more now that it had the room. A thick bead of lubricant seeped out from the seam and dripped down the head, leaving little droplets on his armor below.

Already his valve had a light sheen of lubricant staining the bottom, alerting any and all takers that he was more than ready to receive. In fact it could sense Fulcrum's own spike, out and only a few inches away from it and clenched in response. He wanted him, and he wanted him _bad._ It didn't matter that Fulcrum hadn't even touched him yet, just the sheer closeness of his frame, the heat that wafted out from his vents to spill over Misfire's already too hot body was driving him mad.

"Mhm~" Red optics flickering, Misfire watched propped up on his back against several pillows as Fulcrum's little hands moved down towards his valve. Just the tips of his fingers against the hot fleshy metal made Misfire's hips jump and tremble. "Ngn~" He tried to settle, not wanting to seem as desperate as he really was. It didn't matter, each little touch and rub had him shivering, had his armor relaxing, and his face flaring to life.

Fulcrum's hands were oddly kind, his thumbs massaging both valve lips up and down so slowly he thought he might melt into the berth itself. The feeling only became more intense when Fulcrum rubbed at his chubby outer node, pressing it and rolling it between his fingers as if he had done this a thousand times before. It shouldn't have surprised him; it wasn't like this was their first time interfacing. In fact they had probably interfaced a dozen times together, whether it was in a supply closet or out by a ditch somewhere near camp, this had been their first time in an actual berth. This was also the first time that he was letting Fulcrum have a chance at his valve, not that he was protective over it or anything, it's just Fulcrum was always so easy to give in to getting his aft pounded.

His valve clenched again, calling for that sweet _sweet_ spike he knew was only an inch or so away, but instead Fulcrum kept teasing him. His little creamy fingers slipped and slid through Misfire's valve lips with ease, and he rubbed at the biting valve ring a few times, even sticking his middle servo in a bit to test the waters before withdrawing. It was too much, and Misfire whined, hiccupping a moment and slamming his mouth shut to try and keep himself from making any more embarrassing noises.  

"I think this is the first time I have been around you when you're like this." On heat, that is. Misfire had never been anything other than a stubborn sass factory, so seeing him so _exposed_ was certainly new for the K-classer.

Scooting himself forwards enough that he could rest the underside of his spike on the top of Misfire's valve, Fulcrum rocked himself back and forth. His spike was nothing special, a regular size that fit his frame, no mods, no extra nothing. Though that didn't stop Misfire's optics from widening and his mouth to hang open slightly as that lovely spike touched him. Just the sheer contact from it had his thighs quaking, and his valve biting down even harder, disappointed there was still nothing inside for him to bite onto.

"Pffh~!" He watched as Fulcrum's spike slid up and down, the head pushing between the folds a bit when he pulled too far back. The soft noise their arrays made together was enough to get the jet off, just the wet sloppy sound of them grinding was building up that sweet knot in his tank. Then, as Fulcrum reached down and slid his spike downward towards Misfire's valve ring and nosed it gently, Misfire felt his heat coding run wild.

Chewing on his lip and heaving, Misfire pulled his optics away from his valve and up at Fulcrum. Nearly jumping from his armor when his optics met Fulcrum’s, he felt his face suddenly light up.

"Don't look at me!" It had been too late, but Misfire turned his head and hid his burning face into one of the several pillows he had been leaning against. It was a poor job of trying to hide his embarrassment, but he didn't care, he just couldn't look at him, not when he was so vulnerable.

He waited, feeling Fulcrum's light weight over him. Expecting Fulcrum to laugh at him, after everything he had ever said and done to him it just seemed proper. If anything, now was the time to jab at him while he was weak.

No insults came, no quips, no sass, just the softest kiss he had ever felt at the corner of his optics, and then another. Each kiss coaxing his face out from hiding until finally Fulcrum's lips came to rest on his own.

Optics flaring and flickering, Misfire kissed back and whined suddenly into Fulcrum's mouth as the K-classer thrusted himself forwards as gently as he possibly could. Sliding his spike smoothly into Misfire's valve, he felt the mech clench down around him.

"Mhm~" Fulcrum withdrew, thrusting forwards once more just as slowly, bringing their hips together every few seconds and holding it there until Misfire started to sputter. Again, withdraw... thrust... withdraw... thrust.  

Letting his head fall back against the pillows when their kiss broke, Misfire let himself sink into the mercy of his heat coding and the loving bucks of pleasure Fulcrum was indulging him with. Normally he would be sassing Fulcrum, telling him he hadn't been moving fast enough or making fun of the way he bit down on his glossa when he was focused, but he was wordless. He wasn't even sure he wanted to sass him, not now, now when this felt so good. How could it feel so good? What was Fulcrum doing any differently than all the other mechs who had stuck their spikes into him? What was it?"

Pulled from his hazy thoughts by a soft kiss on his cheek, Misfire blinked his glossy optics up at Fulcrum.  He was cute, so cute, just sitting there, rutting him like that. That stupid face, that stupid smile... he loved it. He loved being nuzzled, loved the kisses, loved Fulcrum's spike thrusting into him and making him feel like he was floating through space. He loved being _loved_.

"Fulcr~" The word came out warbled as Misfire tried to sit himself back up, his valve still clenching and fluttering around Fulcrum's moving spike. He hiccupped again, feeling Fulcrum start to pick up the pace. His legs which had barely been moving during the first few loving thrust now bounded at the K-classer’s sides. A little faster, a little harder, and a little _deeper_ had Misfire seeing stars. Popping across his vision field, he threw his head back again and moaned. "Frag! _Frag! Frag!~_ " The soft wet bump turned into a sopping wet clap as their hips connected again and again, over and over until Misfire was clutching at Fulcrum's arms, begging for release. It was coming, so much faster than he wanted it to.

Wing's flapping upward, Misfire wailed as his valve constricted around the working spike and fluttered spastically.

"I'm overloading!~ Oh _ffff-phhhf-_ " Another wail as his spike swelled and spurt fluid across his own abdominal plating. Thick and sticky, it glowed briefly before dimming. " _Frag~! Frag! K-Keep going!_ " Misfire begged, looking down in time to see Fulcrum's still working spike smashing into him. In and out, the full length was swallowed up by his frame, and in seconds he was overloading again. "FFF-ahh!~" He kicked, throwing himself back onto the covers and feeling Fulcrum pounce over him as well.

Mouths crushing together, Misfire grabbed and held onto Fulcrum's hips, feeling them flex and bend as he humped into him.

Digging his servos in, he cried into the K-classer’s mouth, extending his legs and stiffening them as a third and final overload washed over him. His chest jerked, and Fulcrum's weight kept him in place as he wiggled. Desperately his wings flapped behind him, only settling when a sudden hot burst of fluid swelled inside of his valve.

Face flushing and frame settling, Misfire quieted, settling into the now messy stack of pillows as Fulcrum pumped him full.

"Mhm~" Fulcrum's face was scrunched up, focused as he pushed tried to push out as much transfluid from his reserves as he could. The more inside of Misfire's valve, the longer his heat would be satisfied, at least for a few hours.

Spike throbbing inside of the jet, Misfire felt each hot spurt and licked his lips each time. There was no better feeling than being pumped full, especially by someone who showered kisses down on his cheeks while it was happening. Too bad he didn't have any mods; it sure would have made the night a lot kinkier.

Sitting up and letting his armor sag, Fulcrum sighed. Still lodged inside of Misfire, he gave one last little thrust to watch some of his own fluid seep out the sides. Nice and full, Misfire's lower abdomen puffed outward slightly, letting each of them know his inner chamber was full.   

Removing himself from Misfire's valve and helping him close his panel to keep as much of the fluid inside as possible, Fulcrum laid himself down next to the exhausted jet. For a moment they just laid nose to nose, Fulcrum the only one really smiling as Misfire was too tired to even do that.

Together they tossed off extra pillows from the berth, making room for them to lie side by side, Misfire slightly lower than Fulcrum. This allowed Fulcrum to rest his chin on the top of Misfire's head.

Slinging an arm over Misfire's hot and sweaty frame, Fulcrum brought his hand up to rub at the back of his friend's head. From there he rubbed back and forth slowly, just petting him and listening to him pant against his chest.

It was quiet for a while, and in all honesty they both didn't mind the silence. Just laying there listening to one another's inner working seemed relaxing, and in fact just listening to Fulcrum breathe was making Misfire groggy. Heats were always like that. Frag, sleep, eat, and then frag again until the heat was over. Hopefully Fulcrum would want to stick around for the rest, and judging by the way he was kissing at the top of the jets head, he could guess he would.

"Thanks, loser." Misfire's voice was soft, his optics slowly dimming themselves offline.

"You're welcome."


End file.
